


Marcescence

by groovyboy



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Disabled Character, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gen, Good Parent Frank Kaspbrak, Hurt/Comfort, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, bonsai trees are beautiful, frank though, minor relationship mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:01:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25792540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/groovyboy/pseuds/groovyboy
Summary: Marcescence (n.), process through which a tree retains dead leaves that would normally be shed. These leaves stay there indefinitely, and do not break off unless extreme forces cause their brittle connection to the tree to snap.(Eddie goes back to New York and remembers.)
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Marcescence

**Author's Note:**

> thank you meg for indulging me w my ideas!
> 
> (CW: emotional abuse, typical sonia and myra bullshit, implied homophobia, anxiety attacks, car accidents (minor), itch2 references)

Some weeks had passed since what happened in Derry, Eddie recovering way faster than he was supposed to (to no one but the doctor's surprise, clown magic really was something else), _something_ making quick work of filling the hole It's claw ripped through his chest until nothing but an irregular scar remained. 

He was supposed to be happy about it. Happy about finally getting out of the hospital, happy about his friends being able to resume their lives and, in some cases, begin new ones. But he didn't. 

He felt anxious, if he were to be honest, about what he was supposed to do next, his mind not being able to revolve around the fact that yes, he was gay and in love with his best friend and no, he was not supposed to keep Myra hanging to that single and mangled thread holding their marriage together. And while he wanted, quite desperately, to move in with Richie and pretend that his horrible mess of a marriage didn't happen, his mind kept drifting to his wife. He'd rather take care of this now than wait for another sprout of decisiveness to grow out of the soil that was his brain. 

He was on it as soon as he got out of his hospital bed, calling Myra to tell her that he'd be over in a couple of days and that he wanted a divorce. Just like that. She didn't seem surprised at first, started on a whole charade about her being just a prop in his life Eddie could have sex with other women (at which point he asked a nurse to hold his phone away from him, just in case he decided to throw it to the ground and crush it with his cane until the battery exploded) and how she wanted a divorce, too. That was a good but probably not permanent decision on her end because of course, she was trying to manipulate him into staying, and he wasn't in for it, but he decided to leave it at that, saying his goodbyes before hanging up and immediately looking for a flight back home. 

He had enough money to stay there while the court decided if the grounds for divorce were met, so he booked a hotel room, called a moving service (paid by Richie, bless his fucking soul), and loaded everything he owned in the moving truck. He didn't look too much into what he was loading as he was sure it was just a bunch of clothes and rumpled papers hiding everything he actually treasured underneath them. Myra wasn't home, but he knew that his trinkets had to be hidden from her since he didn't want her to speculate about where he got a random lizard shaped fridge magnet (seriously, why did he buy this) from and who gave it to him, if she was pretty and if she had sex with him (it was always a girl, a dirty woman who seduced him with her sultry eyes and full lips, saying dirty, dirty little things to him that made him lose control. She couldn't be further from the truth).

It eventually came time to take care of the attic, which he only reached with help from the movers specialized in reduced mobility clientele that Richie asked for (again, bless his soul). Eddie told them to go on break. He needed to get his bearings around the attic, a fairly large room with a little window that barely got any light into it. The air was heavy with dust, a damp but not unpleasant smell filling the air. It was only fair for a room that got attention once a week. 

Eddie stared at the little table in front of him, two bonsai trees seemingly staring back at him. Their leaves were downturned, untamed branches making them seem bigger (and sadder) than they were supposed to, carrying small dead leaves still hanging on for dear life. They seemed like they were judging him.

And they were. 

He remembers now. His father taught him how to take care of bonsai trees when he was 7, explaining every single minuscule detail to him.

"These trees mean a lot to me, Eddie." he said "Look at this one," he pointed, and Eddie nodded along, listening carefully to his father's words "I planted it the day you were born. Minutes before you announced your arrival." a small smile ran under his bushy mustache as he remembered the moment "Talk about coincidence, huh, little guy?"

He remembered this fondly, the same smile his father had now plastered on Eddie's face.

The next memory ruined the moment. 

His mother was furious. His dad had passed away, lung cancer finally getting to him (which he now remembered was a lie, Frank died in a car accident after a particularly rough fight with Sonia). She made a nasty scene, throwing everything his dad owned, including the little trees, out the window and grounding Eddie for even trying to think that his father could not possibly pass away, not when he was that young, he was just somewhere else ("He has to be out with his friends, right, mom? Dad is with _his friends_ , right? _Right_ , mom?" "How oblivious can you be, Eddie-bear? Your father is never coming back. He's _dead_! He's dead, Eddie, he was sick, and he's no longer here!" (harsh words to scream at an 8-year-old child). 

Eddie went through a lot of change in a week. His mother became strict, growing ever more anxious and obsessed with him and his health.

One particular afternoon, when his mother asked him to throw out the trash, he noticed the tree. The same tree that shared his birthday, that his father planted before he was born and mesmerized him. Most of its leaves were dried up, the branches holding them almost completely broken, clearly hanging on out of pure spite to the surrounding trash, and Eddie acted fast. He brought it in, holding onto its broken pot while climbing to his bedroom and letting it rest against his desk while he finished his duties. He made quick work of gathering everything he needed to take care of the plant, remembering what his father taught him.

("First, the shears. Use them to get rid of dead branches and pinch the brown leaves on the healthy ones, so they grow better. This is called pruning" Frank's fingers worked with surgeon-like precision "Now, if the soil's dry, don't be scared of giving it a little water. It has to be moist." Eddie shivered at the word, his father giggling while watering the tree.)

* * *

Eddie took the liberty of burying Frank's ashes in its substrate as soon as he turned 18 and planting a new tree in honor of his first (and last) dog, Bud, who he loved to death.

He stared at the same trees now, wilting, sad, the dark green leaves growing brown in places where heat struck them. He neglected them. Eddie took care of them every day when he was in his 20s, playing different music to each of them, singing and talking to them for hours at a time. But he eventually lost that. He found Myra, his mother died, and he forgot himself, too. He neglected the trees, moving them up to the attic and visiting them once a week, just to water them. Not dedicating even a minute of his time to them.

He hated that. The thought of him being so out of it for so long, of him neglecting the ones that loved him and sadly left early. He left them back. He forgot about them and who they were.

Eddie looked down, not being able to dedicate his eyes to the bonsai trees any longer, shame running rampant through his brain. Who had he become to leave them behind?

The voices of the movers that slipped through the window grounded him back to Earth, noticing the small puddles his tears were making next to his shoes. He sobbed, his vision blurry, silence enveloping him so tight that the sound didn't seem to bounce around the room. Eddie reached out to touch the leaves of one of the trees, it fell onto his fingers with the most delicate touch, and his sobs grew even more impatient to get out of his chest, forcing him to breathe unevenly. He had to pull himself together, he had to bring the trees down with him. He had to. 

Eddie finished loading everything he needed up into the truck to Los Angeles, calling Richie as soon as the movers left the scene, and he crawled back into his car, both of the bonsai trees in their separate boxes and strapped tightly into the back seats. The conversation ended up in a promise, Richie offered one of his rooms to house the trees at Eddie's convenience, the latter telling him everything he needed to keep them strong and healthy ("At least one humidifier, there has to be enough sunlight for them somewhere in the room. What? It's _your_ house, I'm the one who should be asking you if you’d let me install fucking windows in the room, dipshit. Oh my god, _no_ , why did your mind instantly jump to the conclusion that I wanted to have a glory hole in our fucking bedroom? Are you dense like, in the brain? Did you just jerk off and you're coming back to life or what? Yes. Yeah. Yeah, I'll pay for it, you don't have to worry. I said I will pay for it. I know you're rich what kind of stupid fucking question is that? Of course I will pay for it, because this is _incredibly_ self-indulgent! Do not call me Sugar Daddy ever again, I swear to god I’ll kick your goddamn ass. Okay, yeah. Yeah. I know, sweetheart. I love you too.") as he drove back to his hotel room and made enough space for both plants.

* * *

Some days passed. Eddie did his best to take care of the trees while not able to give them his undivided attention, managing the humidity in the room, opening and closing windows as he deemed necessary. He didn't feel quite ready to clean them up yet, to shave the brown splotches that ruined the dark green beauty of the trees. 

He didn't feel like they wanted him to. They were resentful. He hurt them, and they needed to process it, to plan what to do, learn how to talk to Eddie again.

Another week passed, and Eddie finally felt brave enough to apologize to the plants judging him under the room’s windows, sunlight illuminating the now dark green and luscious leaves that called for him, made him want to help them grow better, stronger.

He played music on his phone, right hand gripping his shears and left softly holding the dead branches that plagued their highest points (“The apex” his father said, grimacing “strangest names I’ve ever heard for such simple trees.”), slowly pruning them, setting them down next to their pots. His father’s tree was calloused, the old tissue holding the trunk together, slightly softer than the rest of its bark, the memory of being angrily thrown out the window present, but healed. Eddie knew how that felt, his chest still aching even weeks after his recovery, slowly but surely restoring the end nerves that had him using his walking cane. 

He worked slowly, patience and care in each of his brief snips, pruning the places he wanted to grow stronger and getting rid of the brown leaves all across the trees, only their dark green leaves showing. He was proud of them, and they looked proud of him. 

An hour later, once he was done, the music stopped. His playlist was long enough for him to take care of the damage his neglect had done, but not long enough to drown his apologies out. Eddie sat there, silently grazing the overgrown sphagnum moss that plagued their substrate, thinking, sentences carefully forming in his brain. What could he say to apologize for his behavior? What could possibly help his case when he was the one who forgot?

And why, now of all times, the first apology in years, was he overthinking it when he excelled at improvising when talking to them?

“I’m sorry.” and that’s all he could possibly manage, his eyes focusing on the pot rather than the tree in front of him. An insincere apology, words that actually meant nothing. He took a deep breath and his mouth started running. “I’m so sorry, dad. I didn’t mean to forget about you and Bud, I really didn’t. You’re probably angry at me, and I get it. I truly get it. My life without both of you was miserable, I was never in good company, dad, these 10 years have been insufferable. I wasn’t myself, and I’m so sorry.” he sobbed, his hands flying to hold his head. It was getting hard to breathe “Things have changed, dad. Did you know I went back to _Derry_ ? I didn’t tell you, but I saw my friends again. Do you remember Richie, dad? The little four-eyed kid I used to fight with all the time? I saw him again. I remembered how he made me feel, too. He was one of the few people capable of making me laugh after you were gone, you know this. Turns out, I was in love with him all that time! I still am, dad, but I forgot about it and tried to fill that hole with a woman I never even _liked_ , for fuck’s sake! I’m not straight, dad, I never told you this, and now that I have I feel like I'm about to pass the fuck out, I need a moment.” 

Eddie stood up, quickly opening a window across the room and trying to slow down his breathing, leaning into the glass and closing his eyes. He felt like he had motion sickness, his stomach turning and his face growing paler by the second. Still, he didn’t submit himself to the feeling. He was brave, he’d been _told so_ by people he loved. His father told him when he was younger, and even if the context wasn’t the same now, he knew he still thought so. 

He took a deep breath, his body relaxing against the wall and his consciousness coming back to him, the prickly feeling of his fingers slowly disappearing with every shallow breath he took.

He eventually made it back to his seat in front of the trees, finally raising his sight at them, eyes sincere and glowing with happiness at the sight of their leaves perking up a little, the sunlight hitting the tips of the leftmost side of the plant. His room was humid, the earthy smell coming from them filling the empty space he didn’t use. Eddie wasn’t alone. He shuffled, his legs crossing over each other, and leaned ever so slightly forward. 

“Things happened when I was in Derry,” his voice was low, breathy. The secret was out and no one but his trees could hear it “a space clown. It almost killed me, impaled me through my chest and everything!” a chuckle escaped from his lips “I know it sounds fake, I know, but it isn’t. Why do you think it took me so long to remember both of you? I never meant to forget, you know that, right? I never meant to, dad. I never did.”

He went on explaining what had happened since the last time he saw them both. His divorce almost finalized, and he needed to be up early the next morning.

He still decided to go to bed late, horror and love stories leaving his mouth as he smiled remembering the moments. When he saw the Losers again, all cramped up around the round table, telling stories about themselves, how they managed to survive, how much they missed each other. How Stan, a bit late to the event, broke in tears as soon as he saw them all together, how Bev (the bravest person he knew) also finalized her divorce and continued working on her passion projects next to Ben, the reclusive architect changing almost instantly, becoming more and more secure about himself. How Mike and Bill found each other again, best friends for so long, but nothing compared to the way they hugged. Love radiated from their bodies, eyes big when looking at each other. He told his dad about the love inside the Losers Club, about how everyone found themselves again and were now happier. 

Eddie told him about Richie, _his Richie_ , about how much he had grown into his looks, how much he cared about him, about the kissing bridge. When it came to his friends, the most important people in his life, he could never stop talking. He loved them all, he truly did, held them close to his heart and never pushed them away.

Eddie checked the trees as soon as he woke up the next day, his alarm waking him up at 7 in the morning. He had to be in court at 10, so he had more than enough time for his daily walk around the block and his new bonsai care routine. 

The trees looked beautiful when the sunlight crept through the window. Their leaves shone bright, a luscious green glowing all around the room that felt like a smile, an invitation to the new day. Eddie smiled.

* * *

“Hi you two. How are you doing today?” Eddie’s fingers danced around their leaves, perked up and shiny “How’s LA heat treating you, Bud?” the shears made quick work of the few yellow leaves at the end of each branch that made way for the new ones, buds creeping through the thin but resilient bark “It’s a good kind of heat, though. I’ve never enjoyed swimming in a pool as much as I do now.” a quick breath familiar to laughter making his lips curl up “Richie and I are doing okay, both of you would _love_ him. Well, maybe not love him, but he’s good for me. He’d be tolerable enough, I think.” he kept speaking as he finished up his job, wiring Bud’s tree around to help it grow towards a whole new direction and layering its leaves as well as he could. It looked beautiful, finally matching his dad’s, a zigzag form that made them seem bigger than they actually were.

He resumed with his duties, playing a particular record for each of them and singing along until he felt satisfied.

He hummed, softly “What am I thankful for today?” he said out loud, playing with the hem of his shirt “Richie made me burritos for dinner yesterday, I haven’t had them in a _while_ ,” his nose crinkled, matching the smile plastered on his face “they taste great. Beverly called me and it made my day. She and Ben are finally moving together, isn’t that rad? _Also_ , they’re talking about adopting a dog! A golden retriever, just like you, Bud! I’m so excited for them! Finally, going to discover the wonders of having a new best friend, right, dad? I can’t wait to see them all again.” he looked down, his lips still curled, and played with the golden ring he wore on his left hand “I love him so much, dad. He’s so good to me, he helps me so much. I never thought love could feel like this, you know? Not… overbearing. It feels _good_.” Eddie said. It had been three years since he finally moved to Los Angeles with Richie (a beautiful house alienated from the stressing sounds of the city), and one year since Eddie proposed.

He’d been telling his trees what he was thankful for every day, quickly becoming part of his daily routine. 

Some days were not good, however, things got to him. The events of what happened in Derry waking him up from horrible nightmares, Sonia sometimes haunting his brain. But Richie reassured him, let him take as much time as he needed in bed, grounded him, helped him through episodes and Eddie did that for him, too.

And his little bonsai trees glowed ever so brightly next to him, their leaves perked up and grateful, flowers blooming now and then, little acts of love and gratitude.

They were happy, and so was Eddie.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! this fic was a stream of consciousness from me to you <3 
> 
> thank you gabi for proofreading!


End file.
